


you kill your pain, i drug mine

by confusedpups



Series: a series of tumblr prompts [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:40:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4508139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusedpups/pseuds/confusedpups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond had always figured that Q had a darker past than he let on or would ever talk about, imagining depression or sheer reckless behavior, but he never really asked and didn't want to for fear of the same sickening question.  But even Bond wasn't expecting it when he walked into Q’s loft on a Friday night to see Q sprawled out on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and flicking a lighter on and off, with an orange bottle of pills lying on his torso.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you kill your pain, i drug mine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: 00q, revealing a darker past.

Bond had always figured that Q had a darker past than he let on or would ever talk about, imagining depression or sheer reckless behavior, but he never really asked and didn’t want to for fear of the same sickening question.  But even Bond wasn’t expecting it when he walked into Q’s loft on a Friday night to see Q sprawled out on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and flicking a lighter on and off, with an orange bottle of pills laying on his torso.  

Q glances over towards the door, eyes landing upon Bond with his mouth slightly agape.  “Fuck,” he barely mutters.

“You’re high.” He swallows, still processing the situation, before he heads to the end of the room, gazing out the window down to the rain hitting the street below.  “How long?  How much?”  Bond quickly asks.

“Bond…don’t.  This isn’t your place to-” Q starts before Bond turns around sharply, glaring at the younger man, interrupting.

“Isn’t my place to- what?  Know?  We’re fucking, for fuck’s sake.  ‘Not my place’ flew out the window that night in Rio.”  Bond retorts.

Q simply closes his eyes and stares back up at the ceiling, flicking the lighter again.  He finally pushes himself up to sit on the bed before falling back over on his side, eyes glazing over before forcing himself to focus on Bond.

“Jesus.  How much have you had?”  Bond asks, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“Not nearly enough.” Q replies, earning a glare from Bond.  Q catches the anger rising back on his face and raises his hands in defense.  “Look.  I have a self destructive past, most in this bloody field do.  Some things are hard to escape.  Really bloody hard.  You should know that.”  Q drops his head in defeat.

“These opiates…that’s really not the-it’s so addictive.”  

“You think I don’t know that?  You know what else is addictive?  The sick burn of adrenaline that settles in your gut and gives the rush of pleasure I know you feel every time you pull that trigger.  So here we are.”  Q replies, frustrated.

Bond clinches his jaw and nods.  “Yeah,” he mutters.  “I just don’t understand why-”

“Because it’s better-” Q starts, laughing at his lack of his walls while high. “Because, Bond, it’s not as bad as heroine was and still takes the torment of my mind away for a few hours.”  Q glances up, a dead look in his eyes, as Bond stares back wide-eyed at him, in shock.  “Yeah.”

“Bloody hell, Q.” Bond brings his hand up to his face, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, trying to think what to do.  Gazing down at the busy sidewalk below Q’s loft outside the window, Bond admits, “You’re killing yourself.  You have to know that.”  The agent turns around for the quartermaster’s response, the younger man’s eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

Softly resigning , Q utters, “I know.”  Looking up at James’ face, Q cringes at the look of worry across Bond’s furrowed brow.  They never had a picture perfect relationship, but this was a new level of messed up.  “I mean, we’re no Romeo and Juliet- actually maybe, this might end in a pile of dead bodies.” Q huffs to himself.

Bond laughs out loud, walking over towards the bed, settling down on the edge, rubbing a hand over Q’s jean clad thigh.  “Alright.  Yeah, maybe we are Romeo and Juliet after all.”  After looking Q up and down, the frustrated man can’t help but smile and sigh, shaking his head.  “But fuck it.”   Bond concludes, smirking and slipping his cold fingers under Q’s wrinkled shirt.

 

Q gasps, his torso tensing at the cool touch.  “You are insufferable.”  Q rolls his eyes.  


End file.
